Drive
by GirlFromTheWest
Summary: Blaine's a messed up performer who's banned from airline travel. Kurt is his assistant's assistant and must drive Blaine from LA to NYC for the interview that will save Blaine's career. Hilarity ensues and we all know what ends up happening in the end...
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! A bit of a departure from "Daddies" and "We Found Us." The idea for this story has been rattling around in my brain for a while now, so I thought I'd bring it to life. I hope you enjoy.**

**insert bit about not owning anything that smacks of Glee here**

**~oOo~**

Blaine Anderson and fame collided just short of his 19th birthday. It was a classic case of talent plus passion plus performing-in-the-right-coffee-house-at-the-right-moment. Overnight, it seemed, we went from the goofy kid, busking on street corners for kicks and tips, to sold-out venues that held thousands. He was living every aspiring artist's dream.

Sadly, and as with many young entertainers, Blaine was not equipped to deal with his skyrocketing fame. His life began to exist in a bubble, where the people around him told him what he wanted to hear. Rules didn't apply anymore. Blaine had more money than God. His staff kept his schedule, made sure he was where he was supposed to be, and covered Blaine's tracks when his behavior began to look less than stellar.

Any performer will tell you that the long hours the job requires, well, suck. While never one to require much down time, even Blaine began to feel the stress of writing, recording, and touring. Next, came alcohol, then the recreational drugs. Behavior outside the performance arena became erratic: party pictures of a wasted Blaine published on-line and in supermarket tabloid, reports of public drunkenness, hanging out with people not known for being a positive influence on others.

Blaine's manager and publicist began to really worry when his behavior got him permanently banned from most airlines. "…an in-flight risk" as one airline stated in a letter. "…lewd and questionable behavior" said another. Getting from one coast to another became tricky. Blaine's reputation was rapidly declining, which lead him to where he is now: sitting in a chair in his manager's office, ear buds plugged in, sunglasses on, wild curly hair all over the place, and air drumming to a song only heard by him, while his manager and publicist discuss his future.

"I think we are at Code Red. Just this morning, these pictures were released on-line. Other than babysitting him 24/7, I'm not sure what to do," said his manager, Gloria, as she handed a file of pictures across her desk.

"Well, that makes two of us," Charlotte, Blaine's publicist said, after examining the contents and dropping the file of pictures on Gloria's desk. Both women stopped talking and looked at their boss, who continued air drumming, even when he realized the women were looking at him. He offered a smile and then, much too loudly, sang the lyrics to the song playing in his ears.

"Look," Gloria said, looking Char in the eyes, "If we want to remain gainfully employed, we've got to get him to New York for that Letterman interview. The studio has been gracious enough to give Blaine another chance, and if we're honest with ourselves, this may be his_ last_ chance." Gloria paused, clearly in problem solving mode. "Getting him from LA to New York is the biggest of our worries, seeing no airline is willing to take a risk on him. We can't just put him on a bus or a train alone. Far too many unsupervised hours there."

"The way I see it," Charlotte said, "we have one option: to drive him to the East Coast. It's the only way we can assure that he's delivered to the studio, primed and ready to interview." Both women paused and looked at each other.

"Not it!" both yelled at the same time. Realizing there was an obvious tie, both yelled again: "Not it!"

"I can't drive him across the country," Gloria said. "I have a million things to attend to before the concert tour begins next month. You have to go," she said to Charlotte.

"Oh, no no no, you are not pinning this one on me. I'm on vacation next week, remember? And there is no way in hell I'm canceling the tickets to Hawaii. If I postpone this vacation one more time, Bryan will flip. I'm not going to let a job I may or may not have in the near future, mess with my marriage," Charlotte said.

The women sat in silence. "How about this: I'll fly out to New York the day before the interview to make sure Blaine is ready for to go on. He'll be sober, presentable, and prepped for any questions Letterman might ask him. I'll get out there and do the hard work if you'll get Blaine there," Gloria suggested.

"Still no-go. I'm not changing my vacation, end of story," Charlotte stated.

"Well, someone has to get him east and watch him like a hawk along the way, and it can't be…" Gloria stopped talking and looked Charlotte. Smiles crept over both women's faces. Charlotte silently raised her eyebrows and Gloria returned the gesture with a quick head nod.

"Hey Kurt, could you come in here for a moment?" Gloria called to her assistant through her open door.

"What can I do for you Gloria?" Kurt asked pleasantly.

"We're here to make you an offer you can't refuse," Gloria said coyly. Kurt had heard this tone in Gloria's voice before, and it never ended well. "Blaine needs to be in New York City at the end of the month for an interview with Letterman."

"And this involves me how?" Just as the question left his lips, Kurt began putting the pieces together, specifically in the area of Blaine's restricted air travel. "Oh no. Don't make me do that. I won't survive five miles in the car with Blaine."

"Kurt, it is our last chance. In case you haven't noticed, Blaine's not exactly winning any awards for the All-American Boy contest." All three paused and looked in Blaine's direction, where he continued to air drum, oblivious to his surroundings. "If he tanks once more, we're all out of our jobs." Both Gloria and Charlotte looked at Kurt to add a little more pressure.

"You realize I'll probably end up killing him," Kurt said, not joking.

"We'll make it worth your while," Charlotte teased.

"Nothing could make it…" Kurt began, but was then cut off.

"We'll double your salary for the month," Gloria offered.

"And you'll get a bonus if you bring Blaine back in one piece," Charlotte added.

"And really, you just have to get him there. I'll get to New York right before the interview is taped to get Blaine ready and prepped. Come on, what do you say?" Gloria nudged.

"Do I have to share hotel rooms with him?"

"Absolutely not. You don't to baby sit him 24/7. Just…keep tabs on him and help him stay off the covers of tabloid magazines," Charlotte said.

Kurt stayed silent, eyeing his two bosses. "Okay, final deal: doubled salary for TWO months, a week off after we return (Lord knows I'll need some time for recovery), I do not share hotel rooms with him, and while we are on the road, I'm not his maid or his butler."

"Deal!" both women said.

"Here's a credit card to cover expenses. My travel agent will set up hotel rooms along the way, so don't worry about that. I'll also rent you a car, a big one that will give you plenty of space from each other. As soon as the last reservations come through, I'll print your itinerary. Easy as pie! Really, Kurt, it won't be a big deal," said Gloria.

"Can I quote you on that?" Kurt asked.

Gloria remained silent. They both knew the answer to that question.

**~oOo~**

At 7am the next Friday, Kurt took one last look around his apartment, making sure timers were set for the lights and that all the windows were locked. He made sure that the note for Mrs. Kurcher, the neighbor who would take care of Kurt's cat, contained everything she'd need to know. Just as he finished filling his cat's water bowl, he heard a knock. Grabbing his suitcase, Kurt gave Charlie-the-cat one last pat, and opened the door to find Gloria.

"Good morning Kurt!" Gloria said brightly. A little too brightly, Kurt thought. "Are you ready to go?

"As ready as I'll always be," Kurt said, walking through the door and pulling it closed behind him. When he and Gloria reached the sidewalk outside Kurt's apartment, she stopped and faced Kurt.

"Kurt, two bits of bad news."

Kurt put his suitcase on the walkway, prepared to call off the deal and turn back if the news was any more horrible than the task at hand. "What. Spill it, Glory."

"Well…okay…here's the deal: the rental car company was out of SUV's so we had to go with something a bit smaller."

"How much smaller?" Kurt asked.

"VW Jetta," Gloria said.

"What? Those things are tiny!" Kurt yelled, looking behind Gloria to see the compact car waiting at the curb.

"Well, it's a diesel, which means you'll be able to save the planet while you drive by using biodiesel! Go green!" Gloria said, pumping a tentative fist in the air. "Look, it was a VW or a Hyundai. I think I made the better choice."

"Yeah, well good luck to me trying to find biodiesel in the middle of Hicksville, Iowa," Kurt muttered. "What's the second bit of joy you have to pass along?"

"Uh. Well…" Gloria stammered.

"Out with it," Kurt demanded, totally not caring how he was speaking to his boss.

"Um, _Blainesdrunk_" Gloria said quickly.

"He's WHAT?"

"Drunk. He's drunk, okay? His friend David assured me that he'd keep an eye on Blaine and that he'd keep his drinking to a minimum last night. Evidently, drinking after midnight no longer counts as 'night' so, they all spent the wee hours of the morning straight shotting tequila. The bright spot is that he's three sheets to the wind and really quiet! Your first few hours on the road should be peaceful."

Kurt stood silently, looking at Gloria. Gloria smiled a hopeful smile that faded as soon as she realized Kurt was furious. "Alright Kurt, four month's salary if you get him there, plus three weeks off when you return. That's my final offer," Gloria said.

"Fine," Kurt said through clenched teeth. He grabbed the keys from Gloria's hand, picked up his bag and marched to the Jetta's trunk. Before approaching the driver's side door, Kurt looked at his boss and said, "You do realize that on top of the salary boost and the time off, you are going to owe me forever for this. FOREVER," he emphasized.

"Understood," Gloria said, as she headed to a waiting taxi that would return her home. She gave an encouraging wave to Kurt as the taxi pulled away. Kurt's left hand had to physically restrain his right hand from extending its middle finger and flipping her off.

"Okay, here we…Oh god!" Kurt gagged as he opened the driver's door. The smell that wafted from the car was ten times worse than a sleaziest tequila bar in the seediest part of the skuzziest town. Peering inside, Kurt saw a wasted Blaine, slumped over in the passenger's seat, snoring away.

"Just shoot me now," Kurt said, taking a deep breath and climbing in. He rolled down all four windows to clear the air, pointed the car in the direction of New York City, and pulled away.

**~oOo~**

**Can't you see the potential for funny ahead? Hang on because Blaine and Kurt are in for a bumpy ride!**

**GirlFromTheWest xxoo**


	2. Chapter 2

**My dear readers! Chapter Two has arrived. Warning: some course language lies ahead. Don't say you weren't warned! Enjoy!**

**~oOo~**

Just as Kurt saw the sign for Barstow and Las Vegas, the drunk in the seat next to him began to stir. Kurt glanced to his right and then returned his eyes to the freeway. The faster they got to Vegas, the faster this day of driving would be done. More moments of silence went by. As Kurt changed lanes, Blaine came to life.

"Who the fuck are you?" Blaine's gravely voice filled the interior of the car. Kurt whipped his head to the right. The vision of Blaine fit your stereotypical hangover: red eyes, loss of orientation, slow movement, an aversion to light and sound. He remained relatively calm, having just claimed he didn't know Kurt, which would lead one to assume he had no idea why he was in a car, traveling through the desert.

"Are you kidding me?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"No, I don't believe I am," Blaine returned with as much venom as he could. "So, I'll ask you once again: who the fuck are you?" Blaine's honey-colored eyes gained some ability to focus as he zoomed in on Kurt's profile.

Kurt sighed. "I'm Kurt Hummel, assistant to Gloria. Do you need me to remind you of who Gloria is?" he asked smartly.

"Heh heh heh. A funny one. Of course I know who Gloria is. Do you work for me?" Blaine asked.

"I work for Gloria," Kurt answered.

"Do I pay your goddamn salary?" Blaine asked, his voice becoming clearer and rising in volume.

"Yes," Kurt said, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Fine, Employee. Now that we have that cleared up, don't talk to me, understood?"

"Yes," Kurt said.

"Didn't I just say to not talk to me?" Blaine roared, which caused him to grab his ears in pain and moan a bit. Kurt nodded his head and went into silent mode, and not unhappily. No talking meant no awkward conversations with Blaine. No talking meant just doing his job: driving singing sensation and American heartthrob Blaine Anderson from coast to coast. Kurt glanced at his watch. They'd been in the car for 37 minutes.

**~oOo~**

"Employee, I need to pee," Blaine announced after waking from his third nap. Kurt was still under orders to be silent. They were driving a strip of deserted highway, with no towns or rest stops to be had. Kurt motioned with a grand sweeping gesture, drawing Blaine's attention to the fact that restroom facilities were in short order.

"Employee, I'm paying you, right? I need to pee!" Blaine shouted.

Kurt had had enough. He whipped the car off to the side of the road, dramatically exited the car and made his way to Blaine's side. With great flourish, he opened Blaine's door and made a motion to the land beyond the side of the road. If Mother Nature was calling, Blaine was going to have to pee in the great outdoors.

"Here? You expect me to pee here, where everyone can see me? Don't you know that the paparazzi are everywhere? The last thing I need is to show up on the cover of a magazine, peeing on the side of some godforsaken highway." Kurt and Blaine locked eyes for a moment, with Kurt giving a small eye roll. They both knew that being caught peeing on the side of the road would be the most wholesome thing Blaine Anderson had been caught doing in the last three years. Grumbling, Blaine made his way from the car, seeking enough shelter from low-lying bushes in order to empty his bladder with some privacy.

Kurt gave another eye roll as he heard liquid hit the bushes and the ground. "My god!" he muttered to himself. Blaine returned to the car while zipping up his jeans. Moments later, they were on the road again.

"Employee, you may speak now. Where are we going?" Blaine asked.

"Vegas for tonight. New York City by the end of the week," Kurt said, keeping everything business like.

"Vegas! Cool! Are we at the MGM Grand or at the Bellagio…wait, I think I've been banned from the Bellagio. Where are we staying?" Blaine asked.

"Gloria asked her travel agent to put you up in out-of-the-way hotels, to keep your exposure at bay. We're staying at a Holiday Inn on the outskirts of town. I have the infor…" Kurt was cut off.

"Wait a minute. We're not even staying on the Strip? What the hell kind of a vacation is this anyway? How am I supposed to have fun if I'm stuck out in the middle of Sucksville? Holiday Inn my ass! Where's my phone?" Blaine dialed Gloria's number and listened as her voicemail picked up.

"Hi, it's Gloria! I'm not able to talk with you right now, but if you'll leave your name and number I'll call you as soon as humanly possible. And if this is Blaine, yes, you are staying at Holiday Inn. And yes, I know you hate me right now. And yes, I know who you are, but dear one, we're trying to salvage your career, so suck it up buttercup! Bye!" After an extended beep, Blaine hit the button and threw his phone on the dash.

"God I hate her! I hate you, too!" Blaine said, seething at Kurt. "Why is everyone out to get me?" Blaine yelled. "All I want is the respect that is due to me. I work hard, I tour, I record, day in, day out. I pay people to take care of me and look what I get: a bitchy manager who doesn't care if I'm happy or not, comfortable or not. I get a publicist that I think secretly hates me. And I have you, Pretty Boy, driving me across the country in a tin can. And by the way, why are we driving in this shitty Jetta? I shouldn't have to…"

"Shut up!" Kurt yelled. Both men were so shocked by Kurt's actions that a silence fell over the car.

"What did you just say?" Blaine asked, his voice low and steady.

"I said shut up. Shut up, as in close your mouth. As in stop making you jaws jibber jabber. As in silence that incessant whiney noise that is usually reserved for preschoolers, from coming out of your mouth!" Kurt yelled.

"How DARE you…" Blaine began.

"No. No, how dare YOU," Kurt yelled, pulling the car over to the side of the road. When he came to a complete stop, he took off his seatbelt and turned to face Blaine. "Look, it is not my fault that your assy behavior got you kicked off a airlines so that now you are not allowed to fly like a normal human being. It is not my fault that you are three steps from throwing away a career that any starving artist in the world would gladly take over for you. It is not my fault that you are unhappy or unfulfilled or…whatever! I am simply the person who drew the figurative short straw here. And believe me, however much you hate driving across the country in this "tin can" as you so thoughtfully put it, rest assured that I hate it one hundred times more than you because I have to travel withYOU. Am I making myself clear?"

Blaine looked at Kurt, not sure what to make of the words that flowed from Kurt's razor sharp tongue. Blaine knew he was an ass. He knew he's messed up and that it wasn't fair to take it out on this kid who was driving this car. However, Blaine was not going to admit defeat anytime soon. He steeled himself away, looked down his nose at Kurt, and said, "Employee, I thought I told you not to talk to me."

"Bite me," was Kurt's only response as he pulled back out on to the freeway.

**~oOo~**

After many silent hours of driving, Kurt pulled into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn. He killed the engine and got out of the car to go check in.

"Hey, Employee!" Blaine called after rolling down his window. "Where are you going?" Kurt looked at Blaine, rolled his eyes, and continued to walk towards the front door of the hotel. "Hey! Wait for me!" Blaine called, quickly exiting the car and trailing behind Kurt. Blaine caught up with Kurt at the just as the woman at the front desk was bringing up their reservations.

"Hey darlin'" Blaine cooed in the direction of the woman behind the counter. "Where does one go to have fun around here?"

Much to Kurt's delight, the woman checking them in saw right through Blaine's show. Her steady gaze looked right through him as she said, "You're kidding me, right? You are in Vegas and you have to ask about what there is to do around here?" She stared Blaine down for a few seconds more and then went back to retrieving the reservation. Blaine looked shocked, turned away, and found a couch to sit on until Kurt was done. "Sorry if I hurt your friend's feelings," the hostess said to Kurt. "I know who he is and I happen to know he's a first class jerk."

"Uh, he's no friend of mine. I'm just his babysitter from here all the way to the East Coast. And you are right, he is a jerk," Kurt said, which made both of them giggle. Moments later, Kurt possessed two key cards.

As he turned to retrieve Blaine, the woman behind the counter said, "Enjoy your stay…and good luck. I think you're going to need it."

**~oOo~**

"Okay, here's your key, your luggage, and your jacket. I think you are set for the night. We pull out of here at 9 am, so I'm having a wake up call sent to you at 8 am. Do not get into trouble and do not leave the…"

"Employee, do not tell me what to do. I do not pay you to tell me what to do." Blaine snapped as he took the keycard from Kurt's hand. Blaine opened the door to his hotel room, stepped inside, and slammed the door in Kurt's face.

"Good riddance," Kurt mumbled under his breath. Grabbing his own luggage, Kurt made his way to his room, several doors down from Blaine's. After depositing his stuff, he walked to a sandwich shop he noticed on the way in, just across the hotel's parking lot. He took his dinner back to his room, found that his all-time favorite movie, Funny Girl, was playing on the hotel's movie channel, and settled in for the night.

Kurt's dreams that night were confusing and full of stress. At one point, he was alone, in a room, trying to make sense of some clues that would save him from the zombie apocalypse. In the dream, someone started pounding on the door, yelling Kurt's name.

Seconds later, Kurt surfaced from his sleep long enough to realize that the pounding was real, that someone really was knocking oh his hotel room door and calling out his name. Scrambling from bed, Kurt made his way to the door and looked out the peephole. Even with the fisheye distortion, it was easy to see what waited for him on the other side: a Las Vegas police officer and Blaine Anderson, in handcuffs.

**~oOo~**

**Bad, bad Blaine. **

**GirlFromTheWest xxoo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's what Blaine did! Enjoy!**

**~oOo~**

Kurt stepped back from the peephole and took a deep breath. "You don't have to baby sit him," he muttered to himself, imitating Gloria's voice. "Hello officer! May I help you?"

"Do you know this man?" the policeman asked.

"Hiya Kurt. Hi, hi, hi. This niiiiiiice police man gave me a riiiide in his car. I asked him to turn in the lights and the (hic) siren, but he said no. Why did you say no?" Blaine asked the officer. Clearly, he was drunk. Clearly, the officer was not amused.

Kurt sighed. "Yes, sadly I do know him. He has a room four doors down so if you'll just…"

"I think you need to come see something," the officer said, pointing the direction with his thumb. Kurt grabbed his key card and his slippers and followed him down the hall.

"Blaine, give me your card," Kurt demanded.

"Can't. Looooooooost it!" Blaine said and then broke out in a fit of giggle that, oddly enough, almost made Kurt laugh.

"I got another key from the front desk. The woman there had no problem identifying Mr. Anderson," the officer said. He slipped the card into the lock and opened the door. Kurt stepped inside and flipped the light switch. It took a few moments before he could speak.

"Holy hell!" Whirling towards Blaine, he yelled, "What happened in here?"

Blaine snorted. "Party!" Party, indeed. The curtains from the slider were hanging by one hook. The bed was torn apart. Lamps and tables were upended. Something sticky had been poured on the carpet. The television screen was cracked and the door to the mini-fridge was off its hinges. A gurgling noise from the bathroom announced that the faucet in the sink was running and the sink was plugged, causing a flood in the bathroom.

"How…where…wh…I'm very sorry for this disturbance," Kurt said, calmly and evenly. "We'll pay for the damages before we check out. As much as I might regret this, am I free to take him off your hands, officer?"

"Yes, you are. I trust you'll be able to keep your…"

"Employer," Kurt supplied.

"…employer under lock and key. Don't be surprised if the hotel bans him from future stays," he warned.

"Sadly, he's no stranger to being banned. Thank you very much for your assistance tonight. Blaine, come with me," Kurt demanded. Blaine followed Kurt down the hall, trying so very hard to suppress his giggles, but failing miserably.

**~oOo~**

"I'm glad you think this is funny," Kurt said after closing the door to his room.

Blaine stopped laughing and a strange look crossed his face. Recognizing the I'm-about-to-puke look from his college days, Kurt was quick to grab a garbage can and shove it in front of Blaine's face, just seconds before he heaved.

"I feel sick," Blaine moaned.

"And now, so do I," Kurt muttered. After placing the receptacle in the hallway, Kurt went to the closet to retrieve an extra blanket and pillow and began making a bed on the floor for Blaine.

"Don't make me sleep on the floor," Blaine whined, still clearly drunk. "I hate sleeping on the floor. It makes me dizzy."

"No, drinking your body weight in alcohol makes you dizzy," Kurt said as he arranged the blanket. "Last time I checked, this was my room. Since my room has one queen size bed, I'll be sleeping there. Your room had a bed, but you chose to trash it, so Blaine, say hello to your new sleeping arrangements."

"Lemme sleep with you. There's plenty of room," Blaine begged.

"Uh, that would be a gigantic 'NO WAY' to that," Kurt said.

"Please, please, please, please, please…" Blaine continued.

"Absolutely not. Now, go to bed. We have an early morning tomorrow." Kurt lead Blaine by the arm and helped him take off his coat. Blaine collapsed on the ground and Kurt thought he'd immediately gone to sleep.

Not so, apparently. Not two minutes after Kurt got into bed, he heard Blaine whisper, "Kurt. Kurt. Kurty Kurty Kurty. Kurt." Ignoring him Kurt rolled over and put a pillow over his ears.

"Kurt Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt…" This time Blaine was singing Kurt's name to the tune of the first verse in Jingle Bells. He was a bout to continue, but Kurt had had enough.

"What, Blaine, what could you possibly need?"

"Please let me sleep with you? I promise I'll behave. I promise. This floor is hard and it kind of smells. Please Kurty? Pleeeeeeeeease?"

"No Blaine, and that's it. Now, go to sleep." Surprisingly, Kurt heard no more from Blaine and both drifted off.

**~oOo~**

The first thing Kurt noticed when he began to wake up was how warm he was. It wasn't an uncomfortable warm; it was the kind of warm Kurt remembered feeling when he and Jon had lived together in college and Jon would snore just a little bit in his ear and they slept all tangled…

"BLAINE!" Kurt yelled, as he tried to get away, but with no luck. The more he tried to move from Blaine's grasp, the tighter Blaine held on. He worked on prying Blaine's hand from his chest and once free, he worked on untying the knots their legs made. Once his legs were free, Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's chest again and the entire process began again. How Blaine continued to sleep was beyond Kurt.

"BLAINE!" Kurt yelled once again. This time, Blaine woke up. Before opening his eyes, he hugged Kurt tighter.

"Hey, baby. Where you going in such a hurry? Let's stay a little while longer and…"

"BLAINE!"

"Well there's no need to…oh shit! Kurt. Oh hell! Oh…what are you doing in my bed?" Blaine demanded, trying to sound like an annoyed employer.

"I should be asking you the same question. YOU went to sleep in a drunken stupor last night, right here." Kurt pointed to the blanket and pillow on the floor.

"Why in hell was I sleeping on the floor? Am I not the one paying for these accommodations? I think that means I get to sleep in the bed." Kurt wasted no time. He grabbed Blaine's hand and yanked him up from the bed and lead him out into the hall.

"Exhibit A," Kurt said, pointing to the trash can. No question what was in there. Kurt made a sharp left turn, continuing to pull Blaine down the hall. Blaine moaned, beginning to feel the effects of a killer hangover. Kurt stopped before Blaine's door, unlocked it, and pulled Blaine through the door. "THIS," Kurt said, "is why you were sleeping on the floor in MY room. You somehow managed to trash this hotel room and then got yourself to the Strip, where the casino at the New York, New York had to call security, who in turn called the police to give you a ride back here. Anything else you'd like to add, since you were the one actually involved in these antics?"

Kurt's words met silence, as Blaine looked around the room. "This is bad," Blaine whispered.

Kurt was about to let loose with another string of sarcastic observations, but the look on Blaine's face made him stop. In the eight months Kurt had worked for Blaine, he'd only seen a few looks on his face: aloof, totally disengaged, superior, and shit-faced drunk. Today's look was a cross between a damaged man and a frightened toddler. Kurt quietly gasped and spoke. "I'll take care of this with the hotel. Why don't you get a shower and get dressed. I'll go back to my room and do the same. Meet you in my room in half an hour?" Blaine was silent and nodded. Kurt found Blaine's suitcase shoved out on the balcony (don't ask) and opened it for him. He left Blaine to get cleaned up. In his room, Kurt grabbed a bottle of aspirin and returned to Blaine's room. He left the medication and a glass of water on the dresser, along with a note that said, "Take these and drink all of the water, -Kurt." Kurt took a deep breath and walked to the front desk, hoping the same woman from last night was on duty.

**~oOo~**

**This is kinda fun! Blaine isn't done being a jerk yet…**

**GirlFromTheWest xxoo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yeah, I'd all but given up on this story too, but unfinished things really bother me, so here I am. We'll see how this all turns out. **

**GirlFromTheWest xxoo**

**~oOo~**

Blaine slid into the passenger seat of the Jetta. Looking straight ahead he said, "Let me guess. I've been banned from Holiday Inn."

Kurt put the key in the ignition and started the car. He didn't answer Blaine to avoid bursting with laughter. Kurt didn't miss the irony and the flat out humor in a music star like Blaine being banned by Holiday Inn. Kurt did a pretend cough to cover the giggle that bubbled up in his throat. Really, none of this was funny…except that it was.

"Guuuha! Hmm. Yes, you are banned for life, so I guess…"

"You think this is funny, don't you Employee?" Blaine asked, that evil Blaine from yesterday's drive returning . "You've been hired to chauffeur me, not make commentary on my current situation, so I suggest you shut it and do just that."

"Are you for real?" Kurt asked, all kidding aside. "Do you realize the kind of ass-kissing I had to do in there to keep you from being hauled off to the county jail? Seriously, I had to all but promise to date the general manager to make him put the phone down. If anything, YOU owe me an apology. So, excuse me if I find it funny…no, no, HYSTERICAL that big Mr. Superstar Blaine Anderson has been banned from America's best known barely-a-hotel chain, Holiday Inn."

Blaine sat silently, looking right into Kurt's eyes. Refusing to look away, Kurt stared him down. Blaine broke the silence. "Wait. You're gay?"

"Uh, duh. Like you didn't know that thirty seconds after laying eyes on me," Kurt replied, putting the car in reverse and beginning to pull away from the hotel.

"My momma taught me to never assume anything." Blaine said.

"How did those lessons on the dangers of over drinking, wrecking hotel rooms, and treating employees like shit go?" Kurt asked.

"She didn't have time to teach anything else. She died when I was twelve."

Kurt let a soft "Oh…" leave his lips and turned to look at Blaine, who now looked out the passenger side window.

"Yeah, she's gone and my dad thinks I'm a royal screw up. Always has, always will." Blaine said to the passing landscape. They rode along in silence for the next half hour.

"Why, Employee?" Blaine asked.

"Pardon?" Kurt returned.

"I'm an ass, I'm a drunk, I treat the people who work for me like garbage. So why? Why hang around and work for me?" Again, Kurt looked at Blaine as he looked out the window.

"New York City, Four Leaf Clover Coffee Shop, Spring of 2015."

Now it was Blaine's turn to be confused. "Pardon?" He looked to Kurt, confused by his comment.

"I saw you play at The Cover before you hit it big. I used to watch you a couple of times a month. I thought you were good. I thought you had promise. I followed your career and when this job came up, I jumped at it. I didn't know that things had gotten so…"

"Screwed up?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah. In a word or two. I just remember when you were on that tiny stage with that beat up guitar, singing to your heart's content. I always thought, 'No matter where I end up, I want to be that happy.'" Kurt said.

More moments of silence pass. Kurt began to silently reminisce about his days as a college student, when Blaine broke the silence. "Are you?" he asked.

"Am I what?"

"Happy."

"For the most part, yeah. Especially when I'm not cleaning up my boss's messes and taking all kinds of verbal abuse from him." Kurt grinned and turned to gauge how Blaine would take his attempt at joking around. He was met with an unreadable look that broke into a grin and then a full-on laugh.

"I am an ass. I'm sorry, Employee."

"Can we drop the Employee bit? My name is Kurt."

"I know that, Kurt. Can you forgive me?" Blaine asked.

"If this is a fake apology, forget it. I'm not cleaning up any more messes for you, clear? One more night like last night and I'm dumping you ass in the middle of Podunk USA and you'll fine your own way home, not to mention that your career will be over if you don't make it to that interview in New York."

"My apology is sincere. I can't stand to make any more enemies. Can we just begin again? Hi, I'm Blaine. I make music." Blaine extended his right hand to Kurt.

"Kurt. And this is your lucky day because my specialty is keeping track of unruly musicians!" Both men smiled and laughed as they shook hands.

Ten more miles passed before Blaine said, "I'm gay too."

"I know," Kurt said.

"How could you tell?" Blaine asked, astonished. As far as he was aware, no one outside his immediate family and a few friends from high school knew.

"Very acute gaydar," Kurt said. "My mom died when I was young too."

"I know," Blaine said.

"How could you tell," Kurt asked, looking at Blaine incredulously.

"Kids who have lost a parent carry a deep wound that is undetectable to most people," Blaine said. "I've seen it before. I picked up on yours the moment we met, back when you were hired last year. Wanna know what else I know about you?"

"Sure?" Kurt asked, a little worried.

"You have an affinity for designer duds."

"And how…" Kurt began.

Blaine pointed to Kurt's sweatshirt. "Marc Jacobs hoodie, $325, came in green, oatmeal, black, brown, and the navy blue you've chosen, last spring's collection." He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms with a self-satisfied look on his face.

Kurt looked at his boss with a new appreciation and smiled. "Marc Jacobs, but I'd rather eat a pair of socks than pay retail: $125 at an incredible sale."

"But it's still a sweatshirt, Kurt. $125 is still a lot of money for a shirt…for sweating," Blaine teased.

"Bite your tongue, Sir. It is a Marc Jacobs hoodie, for Chanel's sake!" Kurt looked at Blaine with mock horror. They both dissolved into giggles again.

"Kurt, guess the brand and the price of my hoodie," Blaine insisted.

"I have no clue, Blaine. It has no distinguishable markings. Whose is it?"

"Tar-jay, $12.50 on sale," Blaine said, smirking. Kurt looked at him and shook his head.

"You are incorrigible."

"That's what they tell me! Now, how much longer until we stop for lunch, Employee?"

"Blaine…"

"Kidding. How much time until we stop for lunch, Kurt?"

"Much better. Looks like half an hour."

"Good. I'm starving." Blaine looked out the window and smiled.

**~oOo~**

Late that afternoon, Kurt slipped the keycard in and out of the door and opened up a room at the Hilton. "Kurt, we really don't have to share a room. I promise I'll be on my best…"

"No offense, Blaine, and forgive me for being blunt, but I trust you about as far as I can throw you right now. Besides, it will be fun. We'll watch a movie and have some dinner. Besides, we have the longest day of driving tomorrow, so we'll need rest. Early bedtime!"

"Yay. Great. But if you snore, you are out," Blaine said, entering the room and dropping his bag at the end of one of the beds. "Mind if I take this one?"

"It's yours," Kurt said. "And I'm not the one with a snoring issue. I'm going to go check out our dinner options. Can I trust you here alone?"

"Scout's honor," Blaine said, saluting Kurt.

"You were not a Boy Scout," Kurt said, shaking his head.

"Neither were you," Blaine returned grinning.

"Actually, I was for three whole weeks. Seems they didn't take kindly to my honest assessment of their absolutely drab wardrobe colors. It came from a place of caring. Anyway, something about 'gay' and 'scouting' didn't mix," Kurt said. "I'll be back in a few."

After Kurt left the room, Blaine wandered out to the balcony. He looked at the view and settled into one of the patio chairs. His first instinct was to go off in search of a beer, but he knew he had to stop. The urge was outrageously overwhelming. Did he have an alcohol problem? He never wanted to hear that when his manager, or worse yet, his dad started harping on how much he drank. He was sure he could quit. He always said he'd never let his drinking control him, but it had been such a long time since he'd gone without, he just wasn't sure. Blaine decided tonight would be the test. If he could make it through the evening without drinking, he'd prove to himself and to Kurt that he was not an alcoholic.

Wait, to Kurt? Blaine was a bit alarmed that Kurt had even entered his mind. Sure, he'd been a little bit flirty with him as they drove, but Blaine was like that with everyone, male or female. Why, all the sudden, was he needing Kurt's approval? Blaine ran his fingers through his hair and once again, looked out over the edge of the balcony. His mind again, went right to a drink, maybe just one gin and tonic. Just a small…

"I'm back!" Kurt called as he entered the room. "The hotel restaurant looks halfway decent, so I think we should try there. It's not too busy right now, if you want to try and sneak in. Blaine? Where are you?"

"I'm out here," Blaine said. He got up from the chair and moved back into the room. "Sounds great. Would you like to accompany me dinner, Sir?" he asked, winking and offering his arm to Kurt.

"You are a bigger dork than I originally thought," Kurt said, refusing Blaine's arm and moving towards the door. "Come on. I'm starving."

**~oOo~**

A nightmare about his dad's heart awoke Kurt with a start. He sat up in bed, quickly assessing that it was all a dream and that he was, indeed, at the Hilton, one stop of many as he and Blaine crossed the…

Blaine. Kurt looked over to the other bed and immediately noticed it was empty. This could only mean one thing. Dressing quickly, Kurt left the room and headed to the lobby of the hotel. He knew there was a bar attached to the restaurant. Kurt found the car keys on the dresser, so Blaine had not taken the car, thank heaven. Just as he rounded the corner into the bar, he spotted Blaine, the lone patron, talking the ears off the bartender.

"An' thas why you shu' never…ever…Kurt! Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt! Over here Kurt!" Blaine waved his arms so enthusiastically, he almost fell off the barstool. "Whoa, that was a close one Kurt. Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, I love… to say your name! Kurt, Kurt, Kurt…"

"Okay, that's about enough," Kurt said, helping Blaine down from the bar. Turning to the bartender he said, "Thank you for babysitting. Add the tab to our room. Have a good night." Kurt left a twenty dollar tip. The bartender smiled and waved as the men made their way to the lobby. Kurt silently hoped either he had no clue who Blaine was or had the good manners to keep his mouth closed.

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, I'm drunk, Kurt. D-R-U-K , duuuurrrrruuuunk!" Blaine said in a whisper that was much too loud. Thankfully the lobby was empty at that hour. Kurt ignored the raised eyebrows of the woman working the front desk and kept Blaine moving.

"I realize that. Come on, let's get you back to the room."

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, are you mad at me? Huh, huh? Are you because I'm drunk Kurt? Kurt? Kurt?" Blaine stumbled and Kurt's quick reflexes caught him before he face planted on the hallway carpet.

"Whoa, there cowboy. I'm not mad. Just really disappointed. Come on Blaine, keep walking…"

Blaine began to cry and then sob. "I'm so sorry Kurt. Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, I'm soooooooo sorry. I won't do it again. I pro…prom…promish." He continued to cry until they reached the room. Kurt quickly opened the door and got his boss inside before he woke up the rest of the guests at the hotel. Blaine fell on to the bed he'd left a few hours ago and almost instantly fell asleep. Kurt stared at him in disbelief. It was going to be a long trip if every night ended up like this one.

Kurt reached down and removed Blaine's shoes. He'd have to sleep in his clothes tonight, Kurt decided. He pulled the comforter cover out from beneath his boss's passed out body, and covered him up to his chin, tucking him in like a parent might tuck in a child.

Blaine mumbled as Kurt finished covering him up. At first he could not understand the jumble of words that left Blaine's mouth, but he took a step backwards in shock when he heard, loud and clear, "You're so beautiful, Kurt."

"Oh, crap." Kurt covered his mouth with his hand before returning to his bed.

**~oOo~**

**M-kay. There you go. **


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, loveliest of the lovelies, here's more.

**~oOo~**

Kurt's eyes popped open as he heard a key being inserted into the hotel room door. Just as the night before, he looked to find Blaine's bed empty. Once again, he panics as he tried to untangle himself from the sheets. Just as Kurt got to his feet, the door opened, and Blaine entered the room, bearing two cups of hot coffee.

"Morning," Blaine said. "I went down to the restaurant to get coffee for us." He extended his arm and offered a cup to Kurt, trying to avoid eye contact with his assistant.

"Blaine, about last night, I…"

"Kurt, I know. I'm sorry. I do have a full recollection of my behavior last night and I apologize. I'm beginning to think I have more of an alcohol problem than I'd let myself believe. I'm nursing a killer hangover right now, my fault entirely, so if it helps, I'm paying the price. I'm sorry you had to retrieve me from the bar and put up with my horrible behavior. I…I'm just not sure what to do at this point." Blaine sat in a chair, looking shyly at Kurt.

Kurt remained silent for a minute, coffee in hand. He sat on the edge of his bed, close to Blaine. "Look at me," Kurt ordered. "This may be cliché, but recognizing there is a problem is the first step. I think you need more help than I can offer…"

Blaine sat straight up, a look of desperation in his eyes. "Please, Kurt, don't abandon me. Please don't leave me right now. You are the only one I trust with this information and I need you. Please stay, please help…"

Kurt took Blaine's coffee and placed it on the table and then took both of Blaine's hands in his. Looking into his eyes, Kurt said, "Let me finish, please. First, I'm not going to leave you. There really isn't anything we can do in terms of getting you help while on the road. I think we need to progress as planned and get you to New York for the interview. After that, after we get back to LA, then we'll look into getting you the help you need. Until then, I'm here to do whatever you need to keep you sane and focused. Okay?" Kurt caught Blaine's eyes, and kept him from looking away. Tears started brimming in Blaine's eyes.

"Kurt, I'm so scared. How did things get this crazy? How did I end up like this? I never planned for my life to spin out of control. God, the whole world must hate me!" Tears were flowing freely now. Kurt stood up and pulled Blaine to his feet. Kurt opened his arms and Blaine walked into them, like a small child in search of consolation. Kurt wrapped him up tightly and whispered that everything would be okay.

"How do you know that?" Blaine asked. "Things seemed pretty fucked up right now. How do you know everything will be fine?"

"My mom used to say that all problems are solvable. So far, I've found that to be true. Why should this situation be any different?"

"Well, I'm glad you believe that because I'm having a hard time trying to see how this will all come out okay," Blaine said, lifting his head from Kurt's shoulder and sniffling.

Kurt took Blaine's face in his hands and they locked eyes. "Let's say that you leave the worrying to me and the getting better to you. I'm not leaving you alone in this, so whatever you go through, I go through too. Got it?" Blaine nodded his head and sniffled one more time.

"Thank you Kurt. I'm so sorry…"

"If you apologize one more time, I'm going to punch you," Kurt said with a straight face and then he broke into a grin. "Seriously, punch you."

"Okay, okay," Blaine said, backing away and putting his hands up in surrender. "I hear you loud and clear. But, thank you, Kurt. I don't deserve a friend like you right now."

"You probably don't, but here I am!" Kurt said. "Okay, let's pack up and grab some breakfast.

**~oOo~**

Three hours into their drive, Blaine rested his forehead on the window of the passenger's seat. It was obvious that he was in pain, a direct result of the amount of alcohol he'd put into his body the night before. "There's Tylenol in the glove box," Kurt said. He offered Blaine his water bottle, which he accepted. Swallowing two pills, Blaine returned his head to the glass. "Sleep if you can," Kurt suggested. "We still have a long day before us." Blaine nodded his head, closed his eyes, and was sleep breathing within minutes.

Kurt periodically looked over at Blaine as he slept. Kurt's brother, Finn always said that people were the most truthful when they were drunk. So what did that mean in terms of the words Blaine uttered the night before?

Blaine truly was physically beautiful. What Kurt had not told him that was those years ago, when he'd go to hear Blaine play at the coffee shop in New York, it was initially his stunning good looks that drew Kurt to him. Back then, His mop of curly hair defined unruly. He smiled until his eyes crinkled and watching Blaine play and sing was like watching the definition of happy. Now, as he slept off one of a million hangovers, Kurt could see the old Blaine there. He was still that kid with a beat up guitar, singing Disney covers and laughing on stage when he screwed up the lyrics.

"You're beautiful too," Kurt whispered.

Blaine did his best to fake sleep, but Kurt's words were loud and clear. It was all Blaine could do to not grin to himself.

**~oOo~**

"You know, we're a little bit ahead of schedule," Kurt remarked as they pulled into the parking lot of yet another Hilton Hotel.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked.

"Well, originally I thought it would take a full seven days to get to New York, but it looks like we can make it in six. That gives us an extra day, so do you want to take a break from the road for a day or do you want to spend a day in the city?" Kurt asked.

"Are you kidding? Is there even a choice here? Of course I want to spend the day in the city! A whole day with no responsibilities? New York, hands down!" Blaine bounced around the outside of the car like a six year old at his first soccer practice.

"Okay! I guess that settles that!" Kurt said with a laugh. "Hey, we're sharing a room again tonight. I hope you aren't offended."

"I'm not. I get it. I can't be trusted at this point and that's fine. I'm still worried about tonight and fighting off the urges to drink," Blaine said.

"I think I have a plan that will work," Kurt said, with a smile. "Come on, let's go check in." Five minutes later, the men were rolling their suitcases down the hall on the fourth floor, looking for room 412. "Home sweet home," Kurt quipped as he unlocked the door. Stepping in, the room looked identical to the one they shared the night before. After dropping his bag, Kurt turned and looked at Blaine. "Okay, I know this isn't the most exciting evening we could plan, but I think it is safe and will keep your mind off drinking. Let's order dinner in and watch a movie or two. After the day we've had on the road, if we stay up late enough you'll be tired enough to crash for the night. What do you think?"

Blaine was quiet for a few moments and said, "I'll try anything at this point. Your plan sounds great." Blaine thought he sounded a lot more confident than he really felt. Already he was craving a beer, which was not a good thing.

After they ordered from the room service menu, Kurt located the menu for in-house movies. "Footloose? The Hangover? Man, they have some oldies but goodies here. Oh my gosh!" Kurt covered his mouth with his hands and looked at Blaine.

"What?" Blaine asked.

"Never mind, you'll think it is stupid," Kurt said, continuing on with the list of possible movies, "Aladdin? Runaway Bride? Pitch…"

"What movie did you think I'd think was stupid?" Blaine asked.

"Forget it. Any of these sound good?"

"Kurt."

"What? The movie? Fine. It's the Sound of Music. There. Let the laughter begin."

Blaine looked at Kurt with big eyes. "The Sound of Music! That is, like, my favorite movie ever!"

"Look, you don't have to rub it in. I get it, it's a girl movie. I just happen to like it. So make fun all you want."

"Kurt, I'm serious. It is my favorite movie. I used to pretend I was Kurt when I played Sound of Music with my older sister," Blaine said earnestly.

"I was named for Kurt," Kurt said with a smile.

"It was my mom's favorite movie," both men said at the same time. One moment of silence hung in the air between them, before Kurt grabbed the remote and ordered the movie. They sang along with Maria when she was in the mountains. They sang about solving a problem, like Maria. They sang about having confidence.

"Shhh, shhh, this is my favorite part!" Kurt said as Liesel and Rolf made their way to the greenhouse, about to sing Sixteen, Going on Seventeen.

"Let's reenact it!" Blaine said, jumping up on the bed and then jumping to the floor. "I'll be Rolf and I'll stand here between the beds. You be Liesel and you can leap from bed to bed in a circle. Come on Kurt! Let's do this!"

Kurt looked at Blaine skeptically. He stood and placed his hands on his hips, akimbo. "And why, might I ask, do I have to play the girl's part? Why don't you leap around the greenhouse like Liesel?" Kurt asked.

Blaine laughed. "I'm pretty sure those long legs of yours will be much more graceful than my stubby ones. It will be much more accurate if you do the leaping. Now come on! We're going to miss it." He extended a hand to Kurt who took it and stood up on the bed.

"Fine. But next time we reenact a scene from this movie, you are playing the girl's part," Kurt grumbled. Blaine laughed and promised he would. Somehow, he knew there would be a next time.

What transpired next involved Kurt jumping from bed to bed like a gazelle while attempting to sing along with the movie. At one point Blaine doubled up with laughter, losing his grip on Kurt's hand, allowing Kurt to crash to the floor. Kurt told Blaine that he should never ever ever even bother to ask to reenact a scene from a musical because the answer would be a flat out "hell no. "Come on Kurt, you know that you had fun," Blaine coaxed. Kurt tried to keep his face angry, but he burst out giggling. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard his sides hurt.

**~oOo~**

"My mom always cried at this part," Blaine said, after watching Maria and the Captain hiking with the children in the Alps. Kurt kept his eyes on the screen and sang along with Climb Every Mountain. The credits began to roll as he rolled over towards Blaine.

"I'm really tired," Kurt said. "Are you ready to sleep?"

"Yeah. I think I am," said Blaine. "You know what? I haven't had this much fun in forever. Thank you, Kurt."

"Considering this would be classified as 'Nerdy Fun' by most members of our society, I'll take that as a compliment!" Kurt replied. "Blaine, will I be able to trust that you won't sneak out tonight?" Kurt asked, suddenly serious.

"Cross my heart," Blaine said, giggling.

"I'm not kidding around."

"Nor am I," Blaine whispered as he looked into Kurt's eyes. Kurt looked away, unsure what he would have done if they remained locked in eye contact.

"Okay," Kurt said.

"Okay," Blaine said.

**~oOo~**

A rustling of sheets awoke Kurt at just past 3 AM. Opening his eyes and looking towards Blaine's bed, he saw a figure stand and head towards the door. "Blaine?" Kurt asked, preparing to stop Blaine from leaving the room.

"Shh. Sorry Kurt. I'm just getting up to use the bathroom," Blaine said. "I tried to be quiet."

"Okay. Sorry to…" Kurt started.

"No, no, it's okay. I know how this must look. Besides, bars are closed, right?"

"Yeah. Right."

Blaine entered the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. His hands shook as he reached for the drinking glass on the counter. He so wanted to pour himself a beer or a gin and tonic. He steadied himself the best he could and turned on the faucet. Three glasses of water later, he exited the bathroom and made his way back to his bed. Since Kurt was silent, Blaine assumed he'd gone back to sleep. After he was settled in, Blaine heard Kurt say, "Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you," Kurt whispered.

Blaine smiled into the darkness. "I'd be lying if I said this is easy," Blaine said.

"I know," Kurt said. "I really am proud of you."

Thanks, Kurt."

"Good night again, Blaine."

"Good night again to you too."

"_Good night beautiful_," both men thought to themselves.

**~oOo~**

**You do realize that I'm winging this like a bird with the biggest set of wings you've ever seen, right? **

**Thank you for reading. More to come…I think?**

**GirlFromTheWest xxoo**


	6. Chapter 6

**A bit closer now…**

**~oOo~**

Just after loading their luggage and shutting the trunk of the Jetta, Kurt's phone began to ring. Gloria, Blaine's manager, was calling. "Hey Gloria. How are you?" Kurt asked upon answering.

"I think the better question is how are you?" Gloria said. "Is our boy driving you crazy yet?"

"Yes and no," Kurt said, glad Gloria couldn't see his face blush. "We've come to some understandings, so we're making progress. What's up?"

"Well, I'm glad you two are getting along because I have a bit of bad news…"

"Gloria, I'm starting to think it is always bad news when you are concerned," Kurt interrupted.

"Yeah, yeah, that's why I get paid the big bucks. Anyway, there's been a bit of a breakdown in the tour plans and I don't think I can fly to New York to prep Blaine for the interview. I'm hoping, and I'm prepared to make deals with you Mr. Hummel, that you'll get Blaine delivered and prepared to go on Letterman?" Gloria finished her statement more like a question than a request.

"Sure, Gloria. No problem," Kurt said.

"Excuse me? Come again?" Gloria said, clearly hearing an answer she hadn't expected.

"I said yes," Kurt replied. "I'll handle things from this end. I've never done this so maybe you'll send me an email with tasks to complete?"

"Kurt, are you messing with me? Damn, it's so hard to tell if you are being sarcastic without seeing your face. Skype me so I can tell if…"

Kurt laughed. "I'm not messing with you Glory! Scout's honor. I don't mind helping out. No need to wheel and deal."

"Okaaaaay," Gloria said, cautiously. "I'll send that email. Most importantly, Blaine needs to be at the studio early, sober, and prepared to answer some pretty standard questions. Can you handle that?"

"Piece of cake," Kurt said. "I'll be watching for that email.

"Where is my Kurt? What have you done with him?" Gloria asked, laughing.

"Now you're starting to hurt my feelings," Kurt said. "Really, you make it seem like I'm the difficult one!"

"No, no, never, dear boy. Never. I've already petitioned the church to make you a saint. If you can manage to get Blaine Anderson across the country by car and not be ready to kill him…or yourself, you have patience beyond measure. That might even count as one of the miracles a candidate for sainthood must perform." Gloria paused and changed her tone. "Wait a minute. You haven't fallen in…"

"Gloria, no. Do not go there. I am simply driving my boss from coast to coast, that is all. Period." Kurt said, again glad that Gloria could not see his face.

"Skype! We need Skype! Okay, Kurt, take care. Remember to get Blaine where he needs to be and make sure he's ready to be interviewed. I'll be watching here with bated breath. Bye!"

"Bye, Gloria." Kurt hung up his phone and realized that he was sweating. "Oh, god," he whispered to himself.

**~oOo~**

"Did she say what the problem with the tour is? Blaine asked after they got on the road and Kurt updated him on Gloria's call.

"Nope. I'm guessing it's nothing she can't handle. Probably just time consuming tasks and she'd have to spend at least a day and a half getting to you and back. Why, are you worried because she won't be there?" Kurt asked.

"Uh, no. While Gloria's always been there with me for these sorts of things," Blaine reached over and squeezed Kurt's knee, "I'm confident you'll be great at this. No worries!"

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Kurt said, grinning. "I can tell you are worried."

"Okay, I am, but not because it's you and not Gloria. I've really screwed up, Kurt. I'm still a young performer and I've already made a mess of my career. I mean, I'm not to the Britney-shaves-her-head stage of crazy yet, but in the public's eye, I'm close, you know? I feel the most shame when I think about how my younger self would look at me. The 17 year old me would be disgusted that I'd take the opportunities and the fame that I've gained and thrown it all away. I have to face the music and come clean before it is too late." Blaine ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

"Well, what would you say to your fans if you could? What would you want them to know about you and your past?" Kurt asked.

"They wouldn't believe me, no matter what I say," Blaine said. "I'm just another spoiled artist who has become such a train wreck, that people are way more interested in what stupid thing I'll do next rather than the next album I'll release. How can anyone take me seriously?"

"Well, number one, you can get over yourself. This self-pity stuff is exhausting. So you screwed up. Everyone, including you, knows it. The important question here is what are you going to do about it?" Kurt looked to his right, gauging his passenger's reaction to his blunt question.

Blaine was quiet for a long time. "I think I'd ask for everyone's forgiveness and for a chance to prove myself. I'd tell everyone that they have no reason to believe me, but if they'd be patient, I'd like to prove that that 19 year old who was discovered in a coffee shop, is still alive and well and serious about the one thing he loves: making music." He was quiet again.

"And the Sound of Music," Kurt quipped.

"What are you talking about?" Blaine asked.

"You said that music was the one thing you loved. You love the movie the Sound of Music too, or was that disastrous reenactment of the greenhouse scene all for naught?" Kurt grinned.

"Kurt, I think I love you too," Blaine said quietly, looking at his lap.

"Pardon?" Kurt asked, not quite sure what he heard.

"You, Kurt. I think I love you. I'm sorry if I'm out of line. I know this might look like me clinging on to the one person who is making my life okay right now, but I think it is more than that." Blaine looked at Kurt expectantly.

Kurt kept his eyes on the road. He wasn't sure how he should respond to Blaine's admission, but he knew he had to say something. "Blaine, I…I…"

"I'm so sorry, Kurt. I've screwed this up too. It's too early, I know. I didn't mean to blindside you. I've always been a little bit impulsive. I've always worn my heart on my sleeve, too. Not the best combination of qualities, if you think about it. I'll just shut up. Pretend I didn't say anything." Blaine proceeded to make a ridiculous sound, like an old cassette tape rewinding, which made Kurt start to giggle.

"You are a dork. And yes, too soon, but I'd be lying if I said I don't feel something for you. I have since I watched you in play in New York, all those years ago. But, for right now, let's just take it easy, get you through the interview, and then we'll go from there, okay?" Kurt asked.

"Of course. All in good time. Or not. Or…I'll just shut up. Again. Gosh, I do a lot of that these days. Sorry." Blaine reached up and zipped his lips and threw away the key like a five year old. The grin on his face about melted Kurt's heart.

"Great idea, Mr. Anderson. Zipped lips. A very good idea," Kurt said.

"Hmmdble lummslee worrmeled," Blaine said, refusing to open his mouth.

"Uber-dork," Kurt said. He set his eyes on the highway and both men rode for the next hour in silence.

**~oOo~**

When they stopped for the night, Kurt and Blaine were tired and quiet. Kurt checked them into the hotel and they made their way towards their room.

"I'm exhausted," Blaine said. "I think I'll skip dinner and go right to sleep. Sorry I won't be the best company tonight."

"No worries, but if I don't eat, my growling stomach will keep the entire hotel awake tonight. I think I'll grab something quick and then I'll be back. Want me to get something for you? Some fruit or a sandwich?" Kurt asked.

"No, thank you. I'm fine, just inexplicably tired," Blaine said with a look of surprised on his face.

"Well, it was a big day, both in the miles we put on the car and the revelations you had. Emotional stuff like that always wears me out," Kurt said. He picked up his wallet and his phone and headed for the door. "I have my phone if you change your mind. I'll be back in a bit."

"Thanks, Kurt. And thanks for not making this all weird. I'm sorry I was totally out of line today and I hope I haven't scared you away."

"Remember how last night I told you if you didn't stop apologizing to me, I'd punch you? Offer still stands." Kurt grinned and walked out of the room. After closing the door, he leaned against the wall, perfectly sure his legs were about to give out. He was glad he had a background in acting, because continuing to make Blaine's confession of his feelings seem like no big deal was the toughest role he'd taken on in his life. Feeling steady again, Kurt grinned and headed towards the hotel lobby.

**~oOo~**

Forty minutes later, Kurt slipped the key card into the door and entered the hotel room. In the low light Blaine left on for him, Kurt saw two things: Blaine, blissfully overtaken by some well-deserved sleep, and that Blaine had turned down the covers to Kurt's bed for him. He smiled, changed into his pajamas, and crawled between the sheets. He took one last look at Blaine's relaxed and peaceful face across the nightstand before turning off the light and sinking quickly into sleep.

**~oOo~**

**There you go, now. See you in a week.**

**GirlFromTheWest xxoo**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here's a bit more. Glee's not mine…just borrowing Kurt and Blaine a bit.**

**~oOo~**

There's nothing like the open road and a few days in a car with someone to really get to know one another. Both Kurt and Blaine put Blaine's admission of his feelings for Kurt to the side and tried really hard to not let the remaining days they had for travel get weird. They played "the question game" to make the hours pass and as a result, found out some very interesting things about each other.

"Okay, the rules are as follows," Kurt said, not long after pulling on to the freeway one morning. "One, you get three passes for the entire day. Two, you must vow to answer honestly. Three, what we say in the car stays in the car. Agreed?" he looked at Blaine.

"Agreed. I'd also like to add the option of calling for ten minutes of truth once in twenty-four hours. There's no mincing words in truth time; it is what it is. Agreed?" he looked at Kurt. Kurt narrowed his eyes, wondering what kind of a plan Blaine had up his sleeve.

"Agreed, with reservations," Kurt smirked.

"Why, Mr. Hummel, you shock me. Do you not trust?" Blaine asked, fluttering his lashes.

"I believe I've used the phrase, '…about as far as I can throw you' previously. Still stands," Kurt said.

"Wow. Truth time with you is going to be no fun," Blaine said. "Okay, I go first. Question for Kurt Hummel…"

"Blaine, we're the only ones here. No need to be formal," Kurt said.

"Hush you, don't mess with my process. Now, question for Kurt Hummel. How old were you when you realized you were gay?"

"Hmmm. Well, I realized I was different at around age seven, when the boys at school wanted to play baseball and I wanted to hang out with the girls. When did I understand the term 'gay' and how it applied to me? 8th grade, so what, 14-ish? People had been calling me gay since I was in 6th grade, which kind of sucked. I mean, I didn't need people telling me who I was before I'd even made that decision, you know what I mean?"

Blaine nodded his head. "Was school a nightmare?"

"Uh, I do believe it is my turn to ask a question. Don't be a question hog! Okay, what is your…"

"You have to format the question correctly!" Blaine interrupted "You have to say, 'Question for Blaine Anderson!' like I said it for you!"

Kurt gave Blaine a withering stare. "You really are serious about this, aren't you?" Blaine nodded, grinning. "It's a good thing I find this kind of endearing," Kurt continued. "Okay. Question for Blaine Anderson," he said, sounding like a carnival barker.

"Now you don't have to make fun, Kurt," Blaine said. Kurt dissolved into giggles and it took a few moments to gather his composure.

"Okay. Question for Blaine Anderson! What is your dad like?"

"Whoa. Charge right in and waste no time, why don't you?" Blaine said. "Okay, my dad is…well…filthy rich and I want none of his money. If having money makes you an ass, I'm steering clear. He's married to his work, loves money above all, reminds me every chance he gets that my older brother is the greatest person to walk the earth since Jesus and that I'm a royal screw up. Anything else you'd like to know?"

"Blaine, I'm so sorry. I didn't know…"

"It's fine. Honest answers, right? I'm old enough to keep him at a distance now, but growing up with him, especially after my mom died and I came out, was no picnic. I will tell you that I get insanely jealous of my friends who have good relationships with their dads. I think it will be my one…well, maybe one of many regrets I have in life."

"You don't have to have regrets, you know. Everyone makes mistakes, your dad included. If he can't see how great you are, then it's his loss. Sometimes we have to make our own families because the ones we're born into suck," Kurt said. Both men were quiet for a few minutes.

"Question flip," Blaine said.

"What? Is this some kind of new rule?" Kurt asked.

"Question flip. You answer the same question you asked me. What's your dad like?"

Kurt hesitated. "I'm afraid I'll be one of those people that make you feel jealous. My dad is the complete opposite of me. He's a manly man, auto mechanic, wears work clothes and baseball caps. He drives a truck, loves nothing more than to watch sports with my brother, Finn. He is also my rock, my biggest supporter, my cheerleader. Raising a gay son has not been easy for him, but he did what he thought was best for me: he educated himself so that we could relate to each other. He was the first one to storm the principal's office if something happened to me at school. He has no problem telling me to get over myself when I get too wrapped up in life. I don't know where I'd be without him." Blaine kept his eyes fixed on Kurt and was silent. "What?" Kurt asked.

"I hope I can meet him someday," Blaine said quietly.

"You will. You'll love him and he'll love you," Kurt said earnestly. "Okay! Question for Blaine Anderson! Who is your current celebrity crush?"

"Easy. Emma Stone," Blaine said.

"Wait, Emma…wait," Kurt said, clearly confused.

Blaine laughed. "It's just a crush, Kurt. She's gorgeous and funny. Smart too. Are you shocked?"

"Little bit, little bit," Kurt said. "Your turn," he said to Blaine.

"Question flip. Who's your current celebrity crush?" Blaine asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Pass," Kurt said.

"No fair!" Blaine said. "Come on Kurt, who?"

"I'd rather not say," Kurt said, jutting his jaw. "My turn."

"Party pooper," Blaine mumbled.

**~oOo~**

As Kurt predicted, they made it to New York with an extra day to spare. Blaine did not need to be to the studio until Thursday, early afternoon, so that gave them Tuesday evening and all of Wednesday to goof around. After checking in, they found their hotel room and dumped their bags. Just as they were making plans on how to spend the evening, Blaine's phone rang.

"Jeff! Buddy! Yeah, we just got here. Tonight? Who's all going to be there? Are you serious? Totally! I haven't seen them since high school. I'm about ten blocks from there right now. Nine o'clock sounds perfect. Okay, see you there!" Blaine hung up and turned to look Kurt in the eye. "Talk about perfect timing, several members of my old glee club are in town this week and we're going to meet at a bar not far from here. Wanna go?" Blaine, clearly excited, gave a little jump.

'Uh, I don't know. I'd feel kind of awkward hanging out with a bunch of people I don't know. Besides, bars really aren't my thing. You go ahead, though, and see your friends. Just promise me you won't…"

"Kurt! Come on! You have to come with! You'll love my friends. They are goofy and loud and, well, a lot like me. I don't want to leave you here alone tonight. Please, please, please, please, please…"

"Gah! Stop! Okay, fine. I'll go with. But no getting drunk, you understand? If you get wasted, I'm leaving you there. Clear?" Kurt asked.

"Yay! Yes! Promise! I won't drink anything alcoholic tonight. Just water and iced tea for me. I promise! I'm going to go take a shower!"

"Okay," Kurt whispered as Blaine closed the bathroom door.

**~oOo~**

Blaine had been right when he described his friends from high school. However, in his description, he forgot to add huggy, which Kurt discovered just moments after being introduced to the group.

As they opened the door, a cheer went up from a table near the center of the bar. "There he is, Mr. Big Shot recording artist," a blonde said, jumping up to envelop Blaine in a hug. Cheers and hugs went all around before Blaine stepped back and introduced Kurt.

"Everyone, this is Kurt. Kurt, these are the knuckleheads I grew up with." Blaine looked at Kurt and noticed the deep red flush that covered his face. Turning back to his friends, he saw dopey faces, all around. Before Blaine could say anything, a chorus of "Awwwwe" rose up.

"No, no, guys, it's not like that! Kurt works for me…" Blaine tried to explain.

"It's okay, Blainey Boy, you don't have to keep secrets from us! We're your brothers, man, you can tell us anything!" a short man with a round face said.

"He's telling the truth," Kurt said. "I do work for Blaine. I'm just here to accompany him to his interview on Thursday. We're just…friends," Kurt said. The crew wasn't buying what he was selling. One of the guys mouthed the word friends and did air quotes. Kurt hated when people used air quotes. "Look, Blaine, maybe I should head back to the hotel and leave you to your knuckleheads."

"Oh no you don't," a man Kurt would learn was named Wesley. "I speak for all of us when I apologize to you, Kurt. We'll leave it alone. We just want our boy, Blaine, to be happy, that's all. Come on, let's get you a drink. What are you having?"

"I'll have ice tea," Kurt said quietly.

"Water for me," Blaine said. No one said a word, but eyebrows were raised.

**~oOo~**

"Blaaaaaaaaaine, I just had three," Kurt held up four fingers in front of his face, causing his eyes to cross, "ice teas. Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, do youthinktherewassomethingint hoseteas? Do you Blaine, do you?" Kurt was able to stand only with Blaine's assistance. Quickly, Blaine decided that they'd not have much success walking back to the hotel in Kurt's current condition. He felt stupid calling a cab for a ten block ride, but he didn't have a choice.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you were drinking Long Island Ice Teas, Kurt. Come on, keep leaning on me until a cab comes by. We'll get you back to the hotel and to bed as soon as we can," Blaine said.

Kurt pulled his face away from Blaine's shoulder and tried to focus on his face. "Blaine. Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine."

"Yes Kurt?"

"You're pretty. So pretty."

"Thank you Kurt. You're pretty too."

"Do you shink tho? Think sho? Shink so?" Kurt kept trying combinations of words and none came out right.

Blaine laughed, "Yes, darlin' I do."

"Blaine. Blaine. You called me darlin'"

"I guess I did," Blaine said, readjusting his grip on Kurt's side. "Taxi!" he yelled out as he raised his free hand. A cabbie pulled over and got out to help Blaine load Kurt into the back seat. Blaine gave the directions and away they sped, all of ten blocks, to the hotel.

Once upstairs, Blaine guided Kurt to one of the beds, where Kurt immediately collapsed. "Kurt! Wake up, man! We need to get your pajamas on…" Realizing it was a lost cause, Blaine did what Kurt had done for him several nights before: he removed Kurt's shoes, covered him up, and left him to sleep peacefully in his clothes.

After tucking him in, Blaine reached down and placed a kiss on Kurt's forehead. Kurt squirmed in his sleep and mumbled, "Love you."

Blaine stood up and smiled. "Love you too," he whispered.

**~oOo~**

Kurt's eyes opened and the headache began. "Oh, god," were the first words out of his mouth. When he gained focus, he spied Blaine, dressed and sitting in a chair. On the table next to him was a big glass of water, a bottle of Tylenol, and two cups of coffee.

"Morning sunshine!" Blaine said just a little too brightly for Kurt's liking. "How's your head?"

Kurt moaned. "I don't think you have to be so loud. What time is it? Why do I feel like shit?"

"Let me refresh your memory," Blaine said. "Here's a conversation we had last night. I believe it went something like this: 'If you get drunk I'm leaving you there, am I clear?' Huh. Kind of ironic, isn't it? It's a good thing I don't subscribe to your tough rules, Kurt Hummel, because how would you have found your way back?" Blaine grinned. Even the happy look on his face made Kurt's head ache.

"The last thing I remember was drinking an ice tea with your incredibly loud friends. After that…"

"Oooo, I'll leave the details for another day, perhaps a day when you are feeling confident in yourself as a human. A day when you feel invincible," Blaine said with a grin.

"Was it that bad?" Kurt asked. Blaine responded with that stupid zip-his-lip and throw away the key thing again.

"I need food," Kurt said, sitting up in bed and attempting to swing his feet to the floor.

"So, seriously, you don't remember anything about last night?" Blaine asked as Kurt made his way to the bathroom.

"Nada," Kurt replied right before shutting the door. Blaine heard the shower start up.

"Damn," he whispered to himself, reveling in Kurt's pre-sleep confession.

**~oOo~**

**May your week be productive and filled with joy. And puppies.**

**GirlFromTheWest xxoo**


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